Man Who Can't Be Moved
by yesiluvthestage
Summary: After 444 days, Edward decides he's had enough of life without Bella. He moves out of his apartment into a sleeping bag on the street corner where they first met. "Forks isn't that big of a town. She'll have to pass by here at some point, right?"
1. Day One Hundred

**Hey, all!**

**Wow. It has been a while. Any who. This idea popped into my head today while I was on a road trip visiting some colleges. The song "The Man Who Can't Be Moved" by the Script came on and I just sat there thinking to myself, "hm, this sounds like something Edward would do". So uh, yeah. Here we are. **

_Prologue_

The corner of Broken Sky and Crabapple is not just your run-of-the-mill street corner. It's not the wealthiest corner of town, or the prettiest, or the most popular, but it's got a _great _personality. No; personality isn't the right word. It's got a good back story, at least where I'm involved. It was on this corner that I met the love of my life, and also on this corner that I asked her to be mine. It was on this very _same_ corner that I totally screwed this girl over and lost everything. _Everything. _

We broke up on a Thursday, which is a shame, because Thursdays are my favorite day of the week. Don't ask me why Thursdays and not Fridays. I couldn't tell you. They've just always seemed to be my lucky day…well, until _that _one.

She was pissed at me. Royally pissed. "You lied to me!" she screeched. Her pale cheeks were turning purple, which meant that _I _was in deep shit.

"I did not!" I protested adamantly. Stupidly.

"Yes, you did, Edward! You _told _me that your parents knew about me. About us. When it turns out that they still have no. freaking. Clue!"

"Babe…," I began carefully, putting my hands up defensively, "I never exactly told you that I told them…" Don't judge me. It is my right as a male to be completely, utterly clueless and idiotic when it comes to dealing with women.

"Well _excuse me_ for thinking that your 'mhm' when I asked if you had was actually a yes!" Bella's chest heaved up and down rapidly in her anger, her fists clenched at her sides. I'm surprised I didn't get decked in the mouth that day. "_Why _don't you want them to know about me?" Her voice dropped, revealing the hurt beneath her fury. "Are you…ashamed of me?"

"No! God no, Bella. The problem is, if they knew about you they'd want to meet you-,"

"You are so full of it, Edward!" she cried. "'oh, I'm not embarrassed by you, I just never want you to meet my parents'? Do you realize how shitty that sounds?"

"No! I mean yes! God, Bella, that's not what I meant. It's just that…you're 19…I'm 25…that kind of age difference won't go unnoticed by them. If you could just imagine the grief I would get from them-,"

"I'm not worth it," Bella whispered, so softly I could barely hear her. She looked up at me, shock and horror plastered on her face.

"Of course you are, Bella…," I tried, but it was already too late. She nodded her head purposefully, obviously making up her mind about something, and when her eyes returned to me, they were cold and emotionless.

"No. I'm not. And you aren't worth my time." She reached behind her neck, unclasping the 'E' necklace she wore and dropped it into my hand. Then she turned on her heel and walked away.

_Chapter One_

_444 days later _

_Journal. Day 100. _

_I decided to write these journal entries in case, I don't know, I decide to write a fan-freaking-tastic memoir someday about my epic adventures as a twenty-something-year-old. No. I don't know. I guess I just feel like my time out here should be documented. So that I never forget. So that I never _let_ myself forget. Because if this works, there is no way in hell I'm messing up again. _

_ I guess I should explain. It's been 444 days since Bella and I entered Splitsville, aka the hell-hole of all hell-holes. I fell into a seventeen-year-old-chick-like depression, complete with sweatpants, sad movies, and ice cream. I parked myself on my living room couch and did not move. Unless, you know, I had to go to the bathroom. Because that would have been gross. And my couch is white, for crying out loud. Anyways. You get the point. I did not move, and was not planning on moving until my big brother Emmett threatened to "_beat my ass into the year 3008" _if I did not get up and do something besides mope. That was yesterday. His ultimatum gave me the flippin' bright-as-hell idea to park myself on this street corner-the one where Bella and I did _everything_-and wait. Because Forks isn't that big of a town. So, she'll have to pass by here at some point, right? Right. I'm giving it a hundred days. If Bella and I have not met up again by then, I will force myself to go out with that God-awful strawberry-blonde with the plastic-surgery-gone-wrong looking face that my family has been trying to set me up with since I was like twelve. Bella…please come. _

_ Now journal, I know you're probably asking, "Edward, why didn't you just call Bella like a normal creature with a brain bigger than a peanut?" Well, journal, have I got an answer for you! Actually, it's not that great of an answer. Kind of stupid, really. The day Bella left, I got so pissed after getting back to my apartment that I started throwing things just to see them smash against my wall. My phone was one of those lovely items. I lost all my phone numbers. Needless to say, hers was not one that I was able to replace. "But, Edward. Why didn't you just go to her apartment?" We were living together. Obviously, she moved out. And no, she did not tell me where she was going. "Isn't Forks a small town? Couldn't you have just asked-"_

_ You are missing the point here. This was my freaking brilliant idea, and I am following through on it, dammit! Plus, I think it adds dramatic effect. And maybe living on the street is my penance for being such an asshole. Maybe my broke, grime-covered self will evoke some kind of pity when Bella comes back. If she comes back._

_ Dear future self. If you ever read back on this journal and ask yourself why you sounded so crazy back-now, it's because you were. Bella is the only girl you have ever loved and will ever love. If you are fortunate enough to be sitting beside her right now, holding her hand, or if she is still sleeping in the other room while you sip a cup of coffee on the porch and read about your younger self, do NOT be a jackass and lose her. Seriously. Because I can guarantee that if you had a lucky break and got her back once, you will not get the same grace again._

I slam the book closed, slipping my pen into my pants pocket and glance around. I am on the corner of Broken Sky and Crabapple. The only belongings I have with me are the clothes on my back, my notebook, my pen, a half-empty lukewarm bottle of water, and a sleeping bag. This is all I'm allowing myself. I think Bella would be happy. I'm not worth much else.

**Yay! So, there is the prologue and chapter one. In the future, chapters will be longer, and will not always include a journal entry, or may include a journal entry and normal storyline. You never know.**

**Okay, so question 1) should I continue this story? It's been a while. I'm kind of rusty. But what are we thinking? **

** Don't worry. Bella will enter the story very soon. But, seeing as in my story she an independent and somewhat vengeful woman, she will take her time letting Edward suffer (: this will be enjoyable. Oh, and there will be plenty of fun Edward street encounters-hookers, drug dealers, bikers, homeless folks, missionaries, and many more!**

**Yay/nay? **


	2. Day NinetyNine: Part One

Chapter Two

I wake up, wet and cold as hell. By the way. Have you ever thought about how much that phrase _doesn't _make sense? I mean, I thought hell was supposed to be all like…hot and shit. Anyways. I digress.

Stupid Forks is too damn rainy for me. I vow to myself that if…_when_ I get Bella back, we are moving outta here to somewhere warm and sunny 24/7. Oh yes.

Well, now that I'm awake, I sit up and take in my surroundings. I guess that it's still relatively early, because not many people are out and about, but the coffee shop just across the street has some pretty booming business. I'm thinking it's about 7:30 am.

"Excuse me, miss," I say to the first woman that passes by. She's a little older than me, probably in her early thirties, with dark red hair caught up in an uptight ponytail with a much-too-classy-for-my-taste black pant suit on. She looks down at me from her perch on her two-foot high heels and frowns in disgust. I can practically hear the "_ew" _running through her mind right now, dancing on the tip of her tongue. Before I get the chance to ask her what time it is, she rummages quickly through her purse and thrusts a crisp five dollar bill at me from between her thumb and forefinger, as if it's a soiled diaper. I take it and open my mouth to speak, but she's already clippity-clomping away.

_Journal. Day 99._

_ Do I already look that horrible? I mean, I've only been out here for one night. Less than twenty-four hours. I can't look or smell _that_ horrendous, right? I mean, it rained almost all night. That's gotta be almost as good as a shower. I mean…almost. _

It's as I'm writing this that I realize how _little _there is to do out here. I mean, it was part of my deal with myself that I _would not leave this spot _until I meet Bella again. So what am I supposed to do for the next 99 days? Damn. I really should have planned this better.

"_Edward?" _I hear an incredulous voice. And it's Emmett. Yippee. "What in the _hell _are you doing out here?" He's dressed for work, in sweat pants and a t-shirt reading **Cullen's Gym **in black across the front. He carries a workout bag on one shoulder. I watch as he takes in my somewhat-comfy-looking seated position, my notebook in my lap, and the sleeping bag that I am oh-so-cozily tucked into. He realizes that I have not just decided to take a break from a nice morning stroll. Oh, no, no, no. To him, this is something much more _sinister._

"Uh, hello, Em." I say, pretty awkwardly, running a hand through my hair. "Fancy meeting you here." That's sarcasm. As I think I mentioned before, Forks has like three whole streets in it. Emmett walks to work everyday. So really, it's not that fancy. I promise.

"What the hell, bro?" he repeats. The look on his face is pretty freaking priceless. I'm not sure what expression it is, exactly. Kind of a mix between amusement, incredulity, and embarrassment. I hide a laugh under a cough and smirk at him.

"What?" I ask innocently.

"'_what'?" _he mimics incredulously. "What do you mean '_what'?_ You're on a goddamn street corner, Edward!" I shrug, as if to say, _and your point is? _He sighs, runs a hand through his short hair-it's a nervous tick that runs in the family-and crouches down so we're on the same level. Almost. He's still taller, cause the man is a freaking giant. "Look, man. I know this break up has been hard for you." Hard? Try goddamn impossible. "But…dude, you're off your rocker. You've gone a little too crazy this time. I mean, seriously, what are you _doing _here?"

"She's gotta pass by here at some point, right?" I ask softly, not really expecting an answer. I am still somewhat assuring myself that Emmett is wrong. I am _not _off my rocker. That much.

"No, bro. _Not _right. Did you ever pause to consider the fact that she _may not live in Forks anymore?" _Awww, shit. No. No, I did not consider that. Emmett sees my response on my face. And grins, cause he knows he's right. Which, believe me, very rarely happens. "How about we just pack this junk up-," he gestures around at my very few belongings-"and move you back into your apartment. We'll clean you up and you and I will go out tonight. Meet some women. It'll be great."

And that did sound pretty good. Except for a couple things. One, "I, er, sold my apartment." Oh, and I'm in love with a certain Isabella Swan. "And even if I hadn't, I'm not settling for some shallow skank-hoe who's high as a kite in some scummy rinky-dink bar you drag me to." That ain't hot, bro.

"Who the hell smokes weed in bars, man? And also, you _sold _your apartment? Are you freaking nuts? Where do you think you're gonna live?" I raise my eyebrows and look pointedly around at my surroundings, since it's quite obvious that I'm planning on living here. "You…," Em evidently cannot even find the words to describe how much of a scum-of-the-earth I have become and instead settles for scrubbing his face with his fists. Maybe he hopes if he can't see me, I will disappear and turn back into the brother he loves and who is slightly more sane. I don't think it's working.

"Em," I tell him quietly. Gently. Because really, I'm trying not to scare him off. "I've got it under control. It's all part of the plan." I smile, in what I hope is a reassuring way. He gives me a dubious look, but then sighs again and appears to relent somewhat.

"Alright. I'll try to support you in this godforsaken foolishness. How long are you planning on waiting for her?"

"One hundred days. One down, ninety-nine to go. _Then _I'm agreeing to go out with…_Tanya." _I shudder the name. Just imagining holding one of her _paws _in my hand gives me the chills. And not in the romantic oh-I-love-you-so-much kinda way. More like the your-name-feels-like-nails-on-a-chalk-board-on-my-lips sorta feeling. That woman is the antichrist, I kid you not. But my parents are in love with the idea of her, and since if I don't get Bella _no one _will make me happy, at least _someone _should get their way. Ugh.

"Dude. You can't go out with that…_thing." _Em shudders, too. Sometimes it's obvious that we're brothers.

I nod, because I very goddamn well know that I can't go out with that _thing _and live to tell about it. "I know." We sit in companionable silence for a few moments before he stretches and stands up, his knees popping a little. Well, he _is _the oldest.

"I gotta get to work." His feet shuffle awkwardly and he runs another hand through his hair. "Want me to bring you some lunch when I take my break?"

"Sure. Sounds good." Hey, even if he thinks I'm totally cray-cray, he's still got my back. That's family, hombre. He nods sharply once then heads down the street.

"Good luck, bro!" He calls as an afterthought over his shoulder.

"Thanks," I whisper, to myself cause he's too far to hear. I'm gonna need that luck.

I've just started whistling to myself and twiddling my thumbs like a pedophile when I see her. Not just any her. _Her._ It's the back of her, but I would know that back anywhere. Her pale, slender legs disappear into a knee-length gray pencil skirt. A blue sheer blouse-with matching under shirt-is tucked into it at the high-waist. Her long brown locks are tied up into a hoity-toity bun at the top of her head. But it's definitely her. I'm confused as shit, though, because my Bella _never _wore fancy stuff like that. And definitely not mile-high heels like the ones she's wearing. She reminds me of the snooty woman I met earlier this morning, and it twists my stomach in a nauseating way as I make the connection. But she's still my Bella; she'll _always _be my Bella. She turns to the side, and then she's clomping down the sidewalk in my direction, only she's on the opposite side of the street. Since there are still very few cars passing by-really, there are always only a few cars passing by here-I have a pretty good, uninterrupted view of her.

I immediately jump to my feet, straining to get a better glimpse. I can see her profile now, and it's _definitely _my Bella. Although I can tell even from here that she's wearing makeup. I frown. I've always hated when she does that. I'm just about to call out to her when my words are caught in my throat. She has stopped on the street and I can see from here that she's grinning widely at something. _Someone. _She stretches up on her toes, even though she's in heels, and throws her arms around…_it. _And then kisses it. Willingly. Happily. I want to throw up.

But I have not given up. I refuse. I strain to see if she's wearing a ring or not. Because, hell, I didn't come this far to give up for a little middle school fling she's got working in my absence. But I can't see her hand from here. Damn it.

Oh, ho ho, lucky me, though. Because she releases…_it,_ except for its hand, and they turn to cross the street. And then they are heading towards me. I gulp. Loudly.

_Guess you'll get to see about that ring, Cullen._

**So sorry about the wait. I started this chapter like five days ago but then I got really gross sick and couldn't write for a while. No fun. But here you go! Things are about to get interesting. Holla (review!) if you're still with me and want to meet the 'new' Bella. Don't worry. Real Bella is still in there. Somewhere. If I get enough reviews, next chap tomorrow….? **


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